


Hunter Instincts

by pardonmeforyelling



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Monster Tom, Mutual Masturbation, Non-fatal vore, Predator/Prey, Vore, don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pardonmeforyelling/pseuds/pardonmeforyelling
Summary: Tom is hungry, and Tord just wants to help





	Hunter Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> this is all roy's fault
> 
> inspired by a few posts from pred-suggestion on tumblr

Tom has been getting hungry. Starving, if he’s being frank. 

Normally food is enough to sustain him when he stays unshifted, but when he turns to his monster form he needs more.

But he hasn’t shifted in months. So he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

He keeps filling his stomach with food and booze, but none of it makes a dent. He’s starting to get irritable and lethargic, and his friends are starting to show concern.

Tord noticed first. The most willing prey Tom has ever met, Tord is usually the one he turns to when this happens. But he hasn’t shifted, so he shouldn’t be so hungry, and he’s in denial.

One evening, a few days into his unwilling fast, Tom is slumped over on the sofa, eyes staring unfocused at the tv. Is it on the news or one of those crummy zombie movies? He honestly can’t tell.

A pair of hands grab his arm and sling it over a shoulder, hauling him up from the couch. Tom groans, leaning into the body and soaking up Tord’s familiar scent. Gun polish, minty toothpaste, and the salty-sweet bite of sweat. 

“We’re solving this right now,” Tord grumbles, practically dragging him towards the front door.

Tom lets himself be manhandled, hardly paying attention to where they’re going. 

“Tord?” Edd calls from the end of hall. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of the only predator too dumb to take care of himself,” Tord snaps back.

Tom hears Edd sigh, and then they’re out in the cool night air, the door shutting behind them. Tom lets out a grumble of protest at the dig, but doesn’t stop his dragging footsteps. 

Tord folds him into the passenger seat of the car, slamming the door before walking around the front to get behind the wheel. 

“The things I do for you preds,” Tord grumbles under his breath as he turns the key, the engine roaring to life. 

Tom lets his head loll against the window as they pull away, appreciating the dull roar as he drifts off, hunger gnawing unpleasantly at his stomach.

When they stop, Tord climbs out of the car and walks around, pulling open the passenger side door and practically yanking Tom out. 

Tom bats his hands away, curling his lip up in a scowl. “Alright, alright, I can walk.”

When he looks around, they’re not at a hospital or even a restaurant like he expected, but instead in the middle of a dark field.

Tom sighs. “Tord, what the hell?”

Tord crosses his arms. “If you’re not going to eat I’m going to make you eat.”

Tom narrows his eyes. “Really? Is that what this is? Because it’s not a big deal Tord, it’ll pass eventually, it’s just-”

But before Tom can finish his thought, Tord takes off like a shot, dashing across the field. 

Tom perks up, eyes going wide. If he was hungry before, he’s starving now. His stomach growls at him like a wild beast, and his heart hammers away in his chest.

Alright. If that’s the game they’re going to play. 

Tom takes off at a dead sprint, feeling his skin stretch and his joints pop. He hasn’t shifted in so long, and it’s like sloughing off a dead shell. He can hear clearer, see further. Tord is starting to slow, breath coming in harsh pants that seem to echo around the field. 

Tom is only half-shifted by the time he catches his prey, but that’s all he’ll need. He tackles Tord to the ground, careful not to let his claws dig in too hard as they wrap around his middle. 

They hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from Tord in a loud huff as they do. They tumble once, and Tom is quick to pin Tord under him, tail thrashing excitedly. 

Tord grins up at him, even as he wheezes for breath, but Tom is too hungry to be bothered he let his prey win. He drags his tongue over Tord’s front, covering him in saliva. Tord curses and sputters, trying to squirm away.

But Tom hauls him up, jaws parting as wide as possible, and swallows him headfirst. Tord shifts and squirms on his way down, managing to hit all of the sensitive parts of Tom’s mouth and throat, sending a shudder through him.

Another swallow and Tord’s torso disappears into his mouth. His hands stroke at Tom’s tongue, caressing his throat as he slides further and further down.

Finally, with a great gulp, Tord settles into Tom’s stomach, already easing the stabbing hunger he had been feeling. Tom rests back on his haunches, laying a clawed hand over his swollen midsection. 

Just when he’s about to lift himself up to head back to the car, Tord shifts in his stomach, pressing at the walls of his gut. Tom sighs, flopping back against the grass. He might as well enjoy this before he tries to go back about his normal day. 

Tord’s hands pet and stroke, sending shocks of pleasure through Tom. He hums in satisfaction, stroking a hand over his stomach, and the movements still for a moment. 

Then, Tord’s hands press hard, kneading against his spine, sending a jolt through Tom. He gasps, hips giving a little spasm. 

Tord’s feet dig into his bladder as he fights for leverage and Tom winces, pressing a hand against his stomach to coax his meal the other direction.

Tord keeps squirming, hands stroking his insides tantalizingly while his shoulders and knees dig into Tom, alerting him of his prey’s struggle. 

He drops a hand to the front of his trousers, slowly rubbing himself through the fabric. As he does so he massages a hand against the side of his stomach placatingly. 

Something moves there, and Tom realizes it's Tord’s head, butting against his hand like a cat seeking attention. 

He chuckles and continues to rub gentle circles there while he palms himself eagerly. Funny how a decent meal can change someone's mood so dramatically. 

Tom feels the telltale jab of Tord’s elbow in his side, and with a glance down he says, “if you come in my stomach I won't let you out.” 

Tord gives him a half-hearted kick from within his tight quarters and Tom lets a laugh rumble out. He finally relents and draws his zipper down, pulling himself free from his pants. 

As he slowly strokes over himself he basks in the feeling of Tord gently shifting in his stomach with his own pleasure. 

His stomach is so heavy and full, he thinks as he twists a hand over his head, moaning and bucking up into his own touch. So filling to have such a willing victim. 

Tom picks up his pace, panting and bucking up into his fist as he feels Tord do the same, Tom’s free hand making wide, slow strokes over the distended curve of his stomach. 

One of Tord’s hands continues its exploration of the inside of Tom’s stomach, alternating between long, gentle strokes and kneading hard, insistent circles.

Tom lets out a low moan, gripping himself tighter as he picks up his pace. He props himself up on an elbow and pulls his knees up, feeling Tord shift inside him as his space suddenly becomes even more cramped. 

He can just faintly hear as Tord groans, and chuckles under his breath, squeezing the base of his cock teasingly. “You like it in there?” Tom purrs. “Like being my prey?” He presses his free hand into his stomach harder, stroking along Tord’s side. 

Tom can feel as Tord shivers and then goes still for several moments before returning both hands to Tom’s insides. 

Tom manages to choke out a quick “fuck-” before coming over his fist, letting himself flop back against the grass again as the aftershocks roll through him. There’s nothing quite like an orgasm on a full stomach. 

Tom lets out a sigh as Tord relaxes too, stretching out as much as possible in his tight confines. He wipes his soiled hand on his already-ruined hoodie and cups them both over his gut. They both lay still for several minutes, just basking in the afterglow. 

As Tom stands, hands still wrapped around his new addition, something occurs to him.

There’s no way he can drive himself home like this, between his increased height in his half-shifted state, and the person-sized lump distending his stomach. 

Of course the prey still had to get the last laugh, Tom thinks with a sigh. He climbs in the backseat and curls up to take a nap until he’s ready to bring Tord back up. Maybe he’ll keep him down as long as possible, see what he thinks of that. 

Tom smirks, stroking the lump in his stomach. He wonders how long he has until his prey starts fighting back. He falls into the most restful sleep he's had in days, already drooling at the thought.


End file.
